The Gunman
by SingerMe
Summary: A famous gunman comes into Dodge.
1. Chapter 1

**The Gunman**

I don't own these characters. I just like to spend time with them. No other profit to be had than that.

**AN: This was co-plotted with me by my brother-in-law Jimmy. It's closer to a late 1960's or early 1970's episode than anything. The best ideas are Jimmy's and I want to thank him very much. **

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He sat tall in the saddle as he rode down Front Street, feeling every day of his 60 some years, every step the horse took sending jabs of pain up his backside. But he gave no indication of any pain or discomfort. He would have to be dead before anyone would ever see any softness in him. He had survived all these years by his wits and strength and the knowledge that others found no weakness in his steely gaze and rock solid stance.

Most men shied away from even his shadow when they saw him. Most women didn't. In fact, most women found him quite pleasing to the eye. And he did like the ladies as well, at least those who weren't obvious. He felt it was the man's place to court the woman, not the other way around. A woman, who practically gave herself away, was distasteful to him. Not to say he wouldn't partake if it was offered, and he was feeling the need, but generally he liked a woman who knew her own value and could take care of herself without throwing her wares at the first man who approached. A man such as him.

Passing by a store window, he took note of the figure he cut as he slowly paraded down the street. Tall, with a full head of iron gray hair, small goatee, well groomed mustache, deep blue eyes, square shouldered with a broad chest and solidly built, he presented the image of a man not to be trifled with but to be admired. The silver encrusted Spanish saddle on his solid black horse, Cochise, only added to his visual image. But there was a great deal more to this man other than looks.

He was smart in the ways of men and the times. He'd had to be in order to survive. He was tough and rough when called for, stern when he needed to be and soft when he could be, though he wasn't often allowed that option. Educated, quick witted, charming, he had his moments of somberness but wasn't taciturn as a general rule.

He wasn't a religious man, but he was God fearing and he knew the bible perhaps better than some preachers he'd met. He didn't like cussing, though he was prone to a colorful vocabulary himself under the right circumstances. But he did know his manners and usually displayed them around ladies and children and the old or those he respected. He was gallant and chivalrous but he wasn't a dupe.

He feared no mortal man and thought most were fools. But he did respect a man of courage, intelligence and morals. He seldom asked for help from anyone, but would accept it, under the right circumstances, from such a man.

He feared not much else, save being made sport of by anyone in either life or death. That was something he would not tolerate. It was part of the reason why he hated newspaper writers and those saps that turned out the penny dreadful's by the box load. Muckrakers, he deemed them, people who would use his name and reputation to further themselves or puff themselves up. They were not worth the salt that went into their bread, in his estimation.

He felt the same about those who gossiped or spread tales. Worthless human beings who had not a real life of their own so they spent countless hours speculating about the lives of others. They claimed to be fascinated by the very people they denigrated but were in fact seeking to make their dreary lives better by lessening the lives of those they gossiped about. He gave them short shrift and a wide berth.

'Well,' he thought to himself as he finally came to a stop outside of Doc Adams' office. 'They'll have plenty to gossip about now, unless I'm wrong. And I surely hope, I'm wrong.'

As the man dismounted and quickly ascended the stairs to Doc's office, he didn't hear the whispers behind cupped hands of the many people who'd watched him ride down Front Street. But he wouldn't have been surprised at them if he had.

Since the age of 16 he'd built himself a reputation as a fast gun and one that could be had if the money and cause were good. That reputation, along with his silver saddle and black horse told everyone that Duke Riley was in town without his having to say a word.

"I'm gonna tell the Marshal." Louie said when he heard who it was that had stopped at Doc's office and gone inside. He didn't know that Matt was on his way back to Dodge but hadn't yet arrived.

As he ran down the street to the jail, coattails flying out behind him in his haste, many others stopped what they were doing and stared at the man as he disappeared behind the closed door of Doc's office.

"That's Duke Riley." Was whispered loudly by many. "I heard tell he's killed near a hundred men." One said.

"More likely two hundred." Another said. "He is fearless and ruthless, I'll tell you."

The ever louder whispers spread inexorably down the street and reached the ears of most of the Dodge City denizens within minutes of Riley's arrival. They even stretched into businesses like the Lady Gay saloon where they fell upon the ears of one young man named Jay Don Mitchell.

All of twenty one, thin, with gray eyes and lank brown hair, he wasn't much and he knew it but he wanted to be. When he heard that the infamous Duke Walker Riley had come to town, he saw his chance. Though he currently made his living punching cows when he could get the work, he saw an opportunity to change his career to that of gunman and make a name for himself for killing the aging yet still legendary and formidable gunslinger.

With a small smile, he drank the last of the whiskey in his glass and made his unsteady way to the alley by Doc's office to wait for his chance to be famous.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Debbie W, SusyQ and Gunsmokefan, as well as everyone I could PM, thank you! You are all kind and dear souls and I appreciate you immensely.**

"Well?" Riley finished dressing and turned to Doc with a raised brow. He'd ridden for many miles to reach Doc Adams as he was the only sawbones he knew that he trusted. He found the physician to be of superior intellect and honesty with ability's beyond most of the quacks known to call themselves 'Doctor'.

Some years back, Doc had removed a bullet from his chest and saved his life when he and everyone else had thought him dying. He trusted Doc from that day forward and declared to himself that should the time come that he needed medical care of any kind and could make it to Doc Adams, he would. This was the time.

Doc sighed, plowed his hands into his pockets and pursed his lips for a moment, trying to decide on the proper tack to take. He dimly remembered this man from the past but what he did remember, made him to know there was nothing more he could do but be completely honest.

"You're dying." Doc said bluntly. "It's cancer and it's advanced."

Duke dropped his eyes with a sad shake of his head. "Figured it was something like that." He raised his eyes back to Doc's. "How long?"

Adams shrugged. "Could be a month, two. No way of knowing definitely but I doubt it'll be much longer than that." He stepped over to his medicine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of laudanum and handed it to him. "This stuff tastes terrible but it'll cut the pain and help you to rest. If you run out of it, come back and I'll refill it."

Duke mutely nodded, reached into his pocket and pulled out several coins, handing them to Doc. "This cover it?"

"Yes." Doc answered as Duke pulled on his jacket and picked up his hat. "You're in no shape to go riding out of here. You know that, don't you? Dodge doesn't offer the comforts of a big city like St. Louis or Denver but it beats dying alone out on the prairie. You stay put and you'll last longer. You try to ride out of here and..."

Duke nodded his head as he headed for the door. "Yeah, I figured that too. Got a place you'd recommend?"

"Well, the Dodge House, right down the street, is the best hotel and most convenient." Doc answered. "Ma Smalley's boarding house is further out but she's cheaper and she's a good cook."

Duke considered his options. The hotel, while probably much more conspicuous and would make finding him easier, would still be much safer and he wouldn't be putting anyone's life, for the most part, in jeopardy. "I ain't worried about money." He said gruffly as he swung the door open. "I won't live long enough to spend what I have. And as for food… Well, I don't have much of an appetite anyway."

Doc silently watched him exit through the door with sadness. He didn't know the man well but he seemed like a decent sort and he hated, with all he had, to have to give him the news of his death. That was the part of his chosen career that he detested most. But onerous as it was, he had done his duty and at least Duke Riley accepted it with dignity.

Duke closed the door of Doc's office behind him and stood still on the stoop for a moment, trying to clear his head. He'd suspicioned his death was imminent and hadn't truly been surprised at the news, still it cut to the core and hurt worse in some ways than the cancer did. Two months at the most, Adams' had said. Well, if that's all he had to live, than for that two months he'd do just that.

With that firm resolve in his head, he gripped the rough wood railing and began to descend the stairs but he hadn't yet reached the bottom when he heard his name being cried out by a youth who didn't quite look old enough to shave.

"Riley!" The boy yelled. "I'm calling you out!"

Duke closed his eyes in frustration. "Go away, boy. I've no quarrel with you."

"Maybe not." The callow lad sneered. "But I have one with you. I want your life and your reputation and I'm here to claim 'em."

Duke opened his mouth to again voice his objection but he saw that the boy had already drawn his pistol. Duke really hadn't wanted to fire. He didn't know this boy and didn't want him dead, but years of this had conditioned a response from him and without thinking he swiftly drew his own gun and fired, hitting the lad square in the chest.

Jay Don Mitchell was dead. He'd already pulled his gun and placed his finger on the trigger before Duke had even drawn, but he was dead nevertheless. And though it saddened him to some extent, Duke Riley wasn't too worried about it.

"He's almost as fast as the Marshal." Someone watching mentioned to the man next to him in a not too quiet voice.

Duke heard the comment but had no time to wonder about it as suddenly a big man on a buckskin horse, followed by a scruffy looking fellow on a mule came riding up and skidded to a halt just inches from the young man's now dead body.

"What happened here?" Matt demanded as he dismounted from his horse. He and Festus had just ridden back into town when they heard gunfire. Recognizing the part of town it was coming from, Matt made a beeline for it and arrived just seconds after the smoke cleared.

"He called me out." Duke answered calmly as he descended the last two steps and walked over to where Matt stood, beside the boy. "I had no ill will for the lad, didn't even know him, but he seemed to know me."

Matt studied the older man in front of him. He'd never met him but he'd heard enough to know who he was. "Duke Riley?" He asked.

Duke nodded. "Yeah. You know me?"

Matt shook his head. "Nope. But I know of you and I know I don't want your kind in town. You attract trouble and I don't want that here."

Outwardly, Duke showed no signs of distress. But inwardly he was cringing. Not only from the pain he knew he'd experience if he had to ride somewhere else but also from the knowledge that as Doc said, he'd likely not make it to someplace else. Still, he wasn't about to let that show.

"Matt!" Doc suddenly called from his stoop. "Wait a minute. I need to talk to you."

Matt looked up and saw the seriousness of Doc's expression and knew whatever it was, it was important. "Festus, escort Mr. Riley here over to the jail. I'll be there in a minute."

Duke, who had every right to object loudly, said not a word. Instead he stared intently at the Marshal before turning and walking stiffly down to the jail. He neither offered his gun to the law man nor was asked for it by him and that suited them both just fine for the moment.

As Riley walked away, followed by Festus, Matt quickly climbed up to Doc's office and followed the physician in. A few minutes later, he emerged, grim faced and concerned that his town was now sitting on a powder keg named Riley and there was very little he could do about it.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Riley was leaning against the wall, arms folded against his chest, waiting, when Matt walked in. Sitting was a bit too uncomfortable for Riley without some sort of cushion so he chose to stand. He saw the expression on the lawman's face when he finally came through the door and knew the burden the doctor must have placed on him.

"Adams told you?" He asked without rancor.

Matt paused for a moment, in the hanging up of his hat, before finally placing it on a peg by the door and turning to face the gunman. "He did." Matt and Riley both glanced over to where Festus sat, intently listening. "Festus, I need to talk to Mr. Riley alone." He pointedly glanced at the door.

Festus didn't want to go and it was on the tip of his tongue to refuse, but one look at Matthew's face and he figured his knowing could wait for a while. "Alright, Matthew." He answered as he got up and left.

"He your deputy?" Duke asked with a trace of humor in his voice at the thought.

"When I need him to be." Matt answered. "But I don't think I need one right now. Do I?"

Duke shook his head. "No, you don't. I don't plan on giving you or anyone else trouble. That boy out there called on me. He'd already drawn his gun before I could talk him out of it."

"I know." Matt nodded. "Doc told me. He saw the whole thing. He also told me about your health and that you can't travel."

"I can if I need to." Riley fired back. "I'm not so old and feeble that I can't get the hell out of here if you're set on me going."

Matt sighed deeply and scrubbed the back of his neck. "I'm not. I don't like what you're being here could mean for this town but I'm not about to throw a sick old man out of town."

Duke stiffened at the Marshal's words. They were true words and he knew it, but he still didn't care to hear them. "I may be sick but I'm not so old I can't throw you through that window and stomp the hell out of you if I've a mind to."

Matt realized the folly of his words and raised a hand in apology. "You're right. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I just…"

"You don't like gunfighters." Duke finished for him. "I understand and were I in your place I'd probably feel the same. But I've not got too many options here. I will go if you want but according to what Adams' tells me, I wouldn't make it very far. I barely made it here."

"No," Matt shook his head. "No, I won't ask you to leave. But I will ask you to kind of keep a low profile if you would. By now, words probably beginning to spread that you're here and I have no doubt that more men like that boy out there, will be coming for you."

"You mean sort of make myself invisible. Stay in my room and don't go out." Duke couldn't hide the irritation he felt at the very suggestion. "I'm afraid I won't do that, Marshal. I've hid from no one my entire life and I don't plan to do it now that I'm dying. But I'll tell you what I will do. I won't seek out trouble and I won't accept it if I can get out of it. That's the best I can promise."

Matt silently appraised the gunslinger and found he believed him. More so, he found he even actually liked the man. "Alright. I'll accept that."

Riley smiled for the first time since coming in. "Good. And I'll tell you what else, I'll do. I'll buy you a drink if you'll tell me the best place here in town to do that."

Matt returned the grin and headed for the door. "Come on, I know just the place."

The Long Branch was busy when they entered but no so busy that the entrance of the Marshal and the gunman went unnoticed. Matt ignored the stares as did Riley when they pushed through the doors and moved over to the end of the bar where a stunning red head stood watching them.

"Kitty." Matt smiled as he and Riley approached. "I'd like you to meet Duke Riley. Riley, this is Kitty Russell. She owns this place."

"Ma'am." Duke swept his hat off his head and gave her a solemn bow. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Kitty arched a slender auburn brow in amusement as she nodded to him then glanced up at Matt. "Mr. Riley. It's nice to meet you. Can I get you gentleman a drink?"

"A bottle of your finest, beautiful lady." Riley grinned at her. "And three glasses. You will join us, won't you?"

Kitty glanced once again at Matt. He wasn't upset at the man's antics and in fact looked as amused as she was. "Sam," she looked over her shoulder at her bartender. "I'm going to take a little break."

"Yes, Ma'am." He replied as Kitty grabbed a bottle of her finest stock and three glasses, leading the way to the back.

When they reached the green felt covered table, Duke beat Matt to the punch and held a chair for Kitty, waiting patiently while she sat the whiskey and glasses down and took the proffered seat.

"Thank you." She smiled at him as he took a seat next to hers and Matt took the one on her other side.

"The Marshal said this was the best saloon in town." Duke never took his eyes off Kitty. "But he didn't say exactly why. I guess I know now."

"Oh?" Kitty tilted her head in question.

"Yes, Ma'am." He opened the whiskey bottle and poured her a drink. "Any saloon with you in it, has to be the best."

Kitty laughed and then looked back over at Matt. He looked slightly less amused than he was a few minutes prior. "Well, thank you, Mr. Riley."

"Miss Kitty." Sam called just then.

Kitty rolled her eyes. "Excuse me, gentleman." She pushed back from the table but before she could rise, Riley reached out and took her hand. "Hurry back." He winked at her.

Kitty shook her head but didn't reply as she walked back to the bar.

"That is one very pretty woman." Riley grinned over at Matt. "No wonder you like drinking here. I think I will too."

Matt dropped his head before sighing and getting to his feet. "I've got to get back to work." He said gruffly.

"Don't worry about me, lawman." Riley chortled. "I'll be fine right here."

As the Marshal walked out, Riley sat back and took in his surroundings. Even now, knowing he was dying, he couldn't get over a lifetime of caution so he studied everyone and everything in the saloon, trying to see if there was any possible threat to him. When he'd finally assured himself there wasn't, he turned his attention to the saloon owner.

She intrigued him. Though she'd been polite and smiled sweetly, she didn't exactly fall all over herself at his sweet words and obvious charm. But then again, he hadn't exactly done his best yet. Of course, he knew he couldn't actually court her. She was not only much younger than he was but he was dying. She wasn't. Still, the thought of at least one night with her in his arms before he died, was enough to make him want to try.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Three Days Later**

Jake Nunn limped into town on a sorrowful steed, sway backed and sore footed; the horse didn't look to be in much better shape than his owner. Jake had been enduring a hard existence for the last few years and it showed in his gaunt frame and the hard glint of his beady blue eyes. His brown scraggly hair, thread bear clothes and thin wiry body didn't look to have known the acquaintance of soap and water or food in some time. The small deformity he bore on his upper lip gave him the appearance of a man with a perpetual sneer and he usually acted that way.

But Jake didn't care much what he looked like. A man of 45 with 20 of those years spent with a gun on his left hip, he cared for nothing more than a cold drink, a warm woman and whatever money he could pick up along the way to pay for them. Though never the smartest of men, he made up for his lack of intelligence and drive with sheer meanness. He had little respect for himself or others. It hadn't made the son of a poor dirt farmer rich but it had kept him alive.

"Howdy." Hank greeted the ragged stranger when he reined in by the front of the stable. "Take care of your horse?"

"Yeah," Jake answered. "Just don't go getting no ideas of gouging me for a lot of money for that care."

"The price is the same for you as everyone else, Mister." Hank answered with a roll of his eyes. "Fifty cents a day."

Jake thought the price high but he only intended to stay a day anyway and besides, on his way out, could be that he got his money back and a better horse to boot. Gruffly, he reached into his pocket, pulled out fifty cents and pushed it into Hank's outstretched hand. "There. Now, where's the nearest saloon?"

"That'd be the Long Branch." Hank answered, hastily pocketing the money. "It's right on Front Street. Come to get a gander at Duke Riley like everybody else?"

Jake stiffened at the name and turned a glare on the stable man. "Riley?"

"Yep, he's been here, oh, about three days. Pretty much spends most of his time in the saloon. Guess he likes Miss Kitty's company. Anyways, lots of other fellers have been showing up to see him, just figured you did too."

"No," Jake shook his head. "I didn't. But I will."

Hank watched him with a touch of concern. Aside from that young cowboy, who'd tried Riley when he first got to town, no one else had assailed him since and everyone liked it that way. Riley was pretty well liked by most of the people in town. Though he kept to himself, unless he was over at the Long Branch, and he treated people with the same respect he received. "I think I'll mention that feller to the Marshal when I see him." He mumbled as he led Jake's horse inside.

Jake marched woodenly down the street to the Long Branch, his mind in a flux. He hadn't wanted to come to Dodge, because of the big man who ran the law in town. Though he'd never been in Dodge, or even Ford County before, he had heard of Dillon and didn't want any truck with him. He wasn't necessarily afraid of the famous Marshal, but he didn't want to tangle with him if there wasn't any profit in it. And from what he'd heard, no one profited by messing with Dillon.

But circumstances had forced him into town to somehow find another horse and enough supplies to get out of the territory. That was all that he'd intended to do, figuring he'd be in town no more than half a day at most. But that was before he'd heard Riley's name.

He and Duke Riley had squared off some 15 years prior and Jake, if he hadn't been lucky enough to have gotten away, would've died. Riley had shamed him that day and Jake hadn't forgotten it. Though he had drunkenly called a stone cold sober Riley out and then ran when he realized Riley wouldn't back down, he still counted it as a grudge against the gunslinger and he wanted to see if perhaps this time, he could get his own against him.

Duke Riley wouldn't have cared even if he'd known Jake was planning on killing him. Duke had pretty much ceased to care about too much of anything save a fine cigar, a good glass of whiskey and catching the favor of the pretty woman who ran the saloon.

He'd already wired his bank in St. Louis and had them wire the contents of his account to Bodkin's bank here in Dodge. He'd secured the finest room the Dodge House had to offer and made a surreptitious visit to the undertaker's to secure a headstone, casket and grave as well as the silence of the tall cadaverous looking man named Crump.

After a trip to the barber's for a bath, shave and haircut, Duke Riley had found a kid of all about 12 willing to tend to his horse for him. Upon talking to the lad, whose name was Noah; he found the boy's mother, Andrea Hudson, was widowed and eking out a living for her son and herself by taking in laundry, sewing and occasionally baking.

Never a soft touch, Duke did however have compassion. He offered the young woman money right off the bat to help her and the boy. But she refused it.

"I don't take charity, Mr. Riley." She'd told him. "I appreciate your offer, but no."

He tried to reason with her, convince it was for her son as well as herself, but still she refused. So, he resolved to help the young woman and her son in another way, one she couldn't refuse.

After his personal business was attended to and with little left to do but wait for his demise, Duke returned to the Long Branch, becoming something of a regular there in the short of space of three days. He was there for not only the excellent liquor but also the owner.

He knew Kitty Russell wasn't interested in him. Not only was he too old for her but he had a suspicion there was something between her and the tall Marshal Dillon. And he knew he wouldn't be able to do much about it if there wasn't and she actually was attracted to him.

But something about the beautiful red head with the big blue eyes fascinated him. There was a certain mystery about the woman that captured his attention and made him want to unravel it. He only hoped he lived long enough to do that. But then again, he didn't know Jake Nunn was in town or that two others were on their way to see him.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Same Day**

Kid Colt and Brady Coleman drifted into Dodge the same way they had drifted into each other's lives. Accidently on purpose. They were by accident in the same town at the same time and at the same bar when Brady was called out for trying to steal another man's girl.

Kid, who didn't know Brady, did know the other man and didn't like him. When fists started flying, he jumped into Brady's defense and together they not only beat the other man senseless but later on shared the girl they'd fought for. They'd ridden together for over a year now and though they didn't argue much, they didn't care much for each other either.

Kid, whose given first name was left behind at the orphanage he'd escaped from, had, even at the ripe old age of 28, the appearance and gait of someone much younger, hence his name. At 5'10" and of medium build with dirty blonde hair that reminded one of a shaggy dog in dire need of a curry and comb, he could, at a distance, be mistaken for a much younger man.

Until you saw his face up close, that was. Though not horribly disfigured, despite the small scar on his left cheek, earned in a bar fight, he had a countenance that actually made him appear older than he was. His eyes were light brown but the actual light had gone out of them some time ago to be replaced by a cold intensity that gave one a shiver when he turned them on you.

That was one of the reasons the ladies avoided him when they could. Though he occasionally paid for their services when his itch needed to be scratched, he didn't care much for them and he made it clear in the way he treated them. Many saloon girls had taken him to their rooms once but never twice. He cared for no one but himself and they learned that lesson quickly.

He carried himself with a swagger and he made it clear he expected you to step out of his way when he passed. He often took offense when they didn't but he rarely drew his gun if there was no money in it for him. Kid's whole life was based on getting what he wanted and what he wanted was money and a reputation as the fastest draw around.

That's why he and Brady Coleman were riding into Dodge. They both wanted the same thing. And each of them thought they were the better of the two.

Perhaps in character it was a draw, but in looks, Brady won the prize. 35 with coal black hair, black eyes and an olive complexion, many people mistook him for being of Latin descent or perhaps even Indian. But Brady was second generation Irish and proud of the fact. In fact there was very little about himself that Brady wasn't proud of.

He kept his hair and mustache well-groomed and his rather tight fitting clothing well mended and stylish. He considered himself to be handsome, dashing and more than attractive to any woman he encountered. And in truth, he usually was. Few women ever turned away when he looked in their direction.

He had grown up in a far away city called New York, born of immigrant parents who managed to scrape by earning a living any which way they could. But Brady always felt that he was meant for better and as soon as he could steal enough money to buy a ticket west, he did so. He'd been honing his skills and earning his keep with a gun ever since then.

Though neither he nor Kid were wanted by the law, it wasn't because they'd been choir boys. The both of them had separately, as well as together, committed many less than legal acts. But they were smart enough to keep out of the law's ability to catch them or charge them. Their faces weren't on any posters.

Of course, that didn't mean the law liked them. They usually received a chilly reception from the badge in just about any town they entered. That didn't concern them. What did concern them was their reputation as gunmen and their ability to use that reputation to make money.

That was why they had ridden to Dodge. They'd been in Garden City, about a day's ride from Dodge, when they'd heard that the famous gun hand, Duke Riley, was holding reign there. Though, like most gunmen, they shied away from Dodge because of the Marshal there, they, like most gunmen, were willing to risk it for the right incentive.

Killing a man like Duke Riley and claiming his fame and perhaps even getting a little money for it in the offing was, to their way of thinking, worth the risk. So they saddled up and headed east to Dodge.

"Where ya figure to find him?" Kid asked as they rode slowly down Front Street.

"Probably a saloon." Brady answered. "From what I've heard Dodge is full of em but there's one here that's supposed to be the best in the country. That's where he'll be, I bet cha."

A few yards down the street, both men saw it at the same time. "That'd be it." Brady nodded over to the saloon with the big sign above it. "The Long Branch. He'd be in here if he's anywhere."

Quickly the men dismounted, tied their horses to the hitch rail and headed in. Brady had been right on the money. Just to the back, they saw an older man, gray of hair but firm of face paying a great deal of attention to the stunning younger woman sitting just to his left. She seemed to be enjoying his company as well as she smiled and reached over, patting his hand.

"That him?" Kid jutted his chin in the man's direction.

"Probably." Brady answered as he turned to the bar and ordered two beers.

"We gonna just call em out?" Kid asked as he furtively scanned the rest of the room looking for obstacles to their goal.

"Not yet and not here." Brady replied quietly. "Give it a while and see what happens."

"Sam!" A small man with wire rimmed spectacles and city clothes suddenly pushed himself in towards the bar. "A beer if you please."

"Sure thing, Henry." Sam smiled. "You on break from the bank?"

Henry chuckled. "Well, actually I'm here to deliver a bank draft to Mr. Riley over there. Seems he's had all of his money sent here. But I don't figure it'd hurt anything if I took time out for a small libation."

As he hoisted his mug, Brady listened intently to what the man said and a thought formed in his head. Taking another drink of his beer, he looked once again at the woman sitting with Riley and the easy way they were talking. They looked very familiar with each other. Very friendly.

'Hmmmm', he thought. 'The red head and the gunman. That might be interesting information to know.'

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

"You've led an interesting life, Mr. Riley." Kitty smiled as she took a sip of her coffee. She'd been sitting there for a while listening to him telling one story after another of the many adventures he'd been on and the many places he'd seen since he'd started out on his own at the tender age of 16. "A sad one too, I guess."

Duke had related to her how, at the age of 16, he'd been orphaned by a quartet of men who'd ridden onto his family's farm in Missouri, killed his father, seriously wounded him, and abused and killed his mother before ransacking their place and stealing anything of value.

It took Duke some time to recover from his wound but when he did; he set out after those men, his father's pistol strapped to his hip and vengeance on his heart. Along the way, he practiced incessantly with the gun; learning to use it properly and quickly. He had no plans to become famous for his use of it; he had plans to kill with it.

He found the grave, of one of them, in a small town called Carthage, Missouri. The despot had gotten himself killed over a game of cards. It seemed he brought a knife to a gunfight. Duke wasn't sorry for the man but he was sorry that he hadn't been the one to kill him.

He found the second of the four in Indian Territory. He was living with an Indian squaw on the banks of the Arkansas. Duke made no effort to hide himself or come in under cover. He simply rode into the man's camp, made sure he was one of the men who'd destroyed his life and plugged him with very little said.

The squaw stood silently as she watched her man die and made no attempt to stop the boy who'd done it. In fact, Riley could've almost sworn that she actually looked rather relieved at the sight. Riley didn't care one way or the other. He still had two men to find.

Taking time out to bury the odious man, so that the squaw wouldn't have to, Riley climbed back on his horse and continued south.

He found the last two of the foursome in Texas. They were holed up in a bordello in a dusty dry hole of a town called Sweetwater where the only thing sweet about it was the revenge he tasted when he outdrew both men and left them lying in the middle of what passed for Main Street, a bullet in both their black hearts.

There was no law in Sweetwater, save the law of might makes right and that day, Duke's might made his reputation. He never looked back, after that, although there were times, he wished he had.

"I told you, call me Duke and yes, there were plenty of sad times, Kitty." He nodded at her. "But I choose not to dwell on them. Makes living a little easier." At his own words, Duke stiffened slightly and looked down. He didn't have much living left to do.

Kitty reached over and patted his hand. Duke had told her he was dying, not because he wanted sympathy from her, though he wouldn't have turned down the right kind of sympathy if she'd of offered it. But so far the only thing she'd offered was a sympathetic ear and a drink on the house. He appreciated both but he would've accepted more. She wasn't giving it though.

"I know this is hard and I wish I could say something or do something to make it easier but I can't." Kitty sighed. "There's nothing anyone can say or do in a situation like this."

"No, no there isn't." Duke nodded. "I guess I never really gave much thought to the whole idea of my dying because I was spending so much of my time trying to keep from it. But…"

"Miss Kitty!" Sam interrupted.

Kitty looked up to see a man approaching the table, a glare on his face, brown hair sticking up at all angles, his murderous gaze solidly locked on Duke. She started to say something but saw quickly that she didn't need to.

Duke was already up, in a move that belied his age and condition, and his hand was hovering just slightly above his gun. "Get away, Kitty.' He growled as he faced the man. "You want something from me, stranger?"

"I want your life." Jake Nunn replied coolly. "You shamed me and I ain't forgittin' it."

"Shamed you?" Duke looked genuinely confused which infuriated Jake all the more. How dare he not remember what he'd done.

"You heard me." He raged. "You shamed me and I plan on killing you."

As the two men squared off, Kitty stood back worriedly watching the events as they unfolded. Out of the corner of her eye, Kitty saw Sam silently slip out of the bar and head down the street to the jail. She prayed he could find Matt before guns were actually drawn. She didn't doubt that Duke could beat the other man but she didn't want gun play at all if it could be avoided. A few seconds later her prayers were answered.

"Hold it!" Matt ordered as he pushed into the saloon, gun drawn. "What's this all about?"

Duke shrugged without relaxing his stance or moving his hand. "Ask him. He's the one come gunning for me."

Matt looked over at Jake. "What do you want here, Mister? What's he to you?"

Jake opened his mouth to speak but clamped it shut just as quickly. He wasn't overly bright, but he realized just how stupid and childish he would've sounded if he'd spoken out loud his reasons for calling out a famous gunman in a fancy saloon with a US Marshal standing by. He'd already said more than he'd intended.

"Nothing." He finally spit out. "He ain't nothing to me."

"Then why don't you just go on." Matt glared at him. "Get on out of here and stay out. And if I have any more trouble out of you, I'll throw you out of town completely. Understand?"

Jake scowled at first Duke, then Matt and Kitty then returned his gaze to Duke before finally glancing around at everyone else and standing down. "Yeah." He grumbled. "I understand."

As he took two steps backward and turned to leave, Brady suddenly grinned and turned to Kid. "Come on." He grinned at his partner. "I've got an idea of how we can kill two birds with one stone."

Puzzled but unwilling to question right then, Kid drained the last of his beer and quickly followed Brady outside.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

No one in the saloon relaxed until the despicable looking man had completely gone. Only then did Kitty let out the breath she'd been holding and Duke relaxed his stance. Standing as rigidly as he was, had been hard on him but he showed no pain or distress as he finally moved back to his chair and sat down.

"Buy you a drink, Marshal?" He looked up at Matt with a smirk.

Matt glanced over at Kitty, reassuring himself she was okay, before looking back down at Duke. "You got any idea who he was or what he wanted?"

"Nope." Duke shook his head firmly. "Nor do I care who he was. That's your job to worry about, not mine."

Matt's scowl deepened. "You don't make it easy."

"I don't intend to make it easy." Duke smiled at him, humorously. "Not for you or anyone else. And there isn't a damn thing you or anyone else can do about it." He dropped the grin when he saw the lawman's expression. "I know. You don't want trouble. But he brought it, I didn't."

"Sam told me." Matt looked over at Kitty then back at Riley. "But whether you brought it or not, it comes to you and anyone you're with. I don't want innocent people hurt."

Duke understood then what was troubling the Marshal the most and he grinned again. "Don't worry, Dillon. I won't let her get her hurt. I'd take a bullet first."

Matt forced himself to take a deep breath. Duke Riley was sick. In fact, Duke Riley was dying and from what Doc told him, he wouldn't be long in doing it. But Matt knew the potential risks the man incurred to anyone around him until he did die.

Anyone.

He looked back over at Kitty.

"Matt." She stepped over to him, gently placing a hand on his arm. "It's over. That man is gone and I doubt he'll be back." She understood the war he was waging with this. He couldn't throw the man out of town or in jail or even restrict his movements and yet Riley staying in town presented problems not easily solved. "It's alright." She repeated softly.

Matt finally eased his rigid posture and wearily grabbed a seat, sitting down beside Riley. "You don't make it easy." He repeated.

Outside, Brady hastily led the way down the street as he hurried to catch up to Riley's most recently defeated challenger. Kid wasn't sure what his partner was up to but he came along anyway to find out. Brady usually had some pretty good ideas.

"Hey! Mister!" Brady called when he got close enough for Jake to hear him. "Hold up a minute. I want to talk to you."

Jake turned a cold glare on the dandy at his heels. "About what?"

"You know Duke Riley, do you?" Brady asked, watching the man closely.

"What's it to you?" Jake was not in too much of a mood to talk. He was angry at once again being embarrassed by and over Duke Riley and he wanted to take it out on a bottle of whiskey and any girl he could get.

"Cause I have a problem with the man and I need to know if I have a problem with you too." Brady answered.

"A problem?" Jake frowned at him. "What kind of problem?"

"Let's find some place to talk." Brady answered with a nod of his head at the Lady Gay.

Once the men had their whiskey and a table in the corner, Brady poured each of them a drink, never taking his eyes off of the gruff, scraggly stranger. He had a feeling this man was just what was needed to secure a large sum of money and a reputation as the fastest draw in the west. He just had to work it right.

"Alright." Jake sat back and took a sip of whiskey. "What's this about? What kind of problem do you have with Duke Riley? He kill your pa or something?"

Brady grinned and shook his head. "No. No, I've never met the man before and he's never been near my pa. No, you see, the problem I have with him, is he's got a reputation and I don't. He's got money and I don't. And I want to fix that problem."

"Hmpf." Jake snorted. "Easier said than done. And even if ya could, what's that got to do with me?"

Brady's grin widened as he refilled the older man's glass. "I figure Duke Riley has enough reputation and money for all three of us." He saw the interest in the man's eyes and knew he'd hooked him. Now to reel him in.

"I have a plan to take Mr. Riley's name and his money, but I can't do it alone and even as good as Kid here is, we still need a third. That's where you come in. You agree to help us, we give you a third of the money we get and you get yourself a nice reputation as one of the men that took down Duke Riley."

Jake's eyes lit up. "You got a plan to get that done?"

"I do." Brady solemnly nodded. "It won't be easy, that's why we need help. But it will be worth it. If we play our cards right, there might even be a little bonus in it for us."

Jake couldn't believe his good fortune. He was being handed a chance to not only get even with Duke Riley but also get his money and maybe more. But a lifetime of looking over his shoulder and his natural distrust of anything easy made him keep his enthusiasm in check. "What you got in mind?" He asked, showing no interest in it and yet not rejecting the idea.

"You in?" Brady asked. "I'm telling you nothing until I know I can trust you."

Jake considered his options. He wasn't sure of this man or his friend but right then he didn't have a whole lot to lose. "I'm in." He sighed. "Tell me your plan."

Brady refilled his glass as well as Kid's and raised his own in a mock toast before answering. "It's simple." He said after he took a drink. "We take something special to Duke and sell her back to him. I figure he'll pay every dime he has and give up his reputation to boot for that red head."

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

After Jake Nunn left the Long Branch, things settled down there and the rest of the evening went quietly. Duke, easily tired, left early and made his way back to the hotel. He'd flirted and cajoled and flattered Kitty unmercifully, but, as she had since he'd arrived; she walked him to the doors, patted his arm, smiled and shook her head no.

"Can't blame a fella for trying." He grinned as he kissed her on the cheek and left.

Neither of them saw the trio of eyes watching them from the alley across the street. "Wonder she don't just go on up to his rooms with him right now." Kid said as he watched the famous gunman leave the saloon alone.

"She can't." Brady answered. "She's got a business to run. She owns that place, from what I heard. But that don't mean she won't head over there after the saloon closes."

"That when we're gonna take her?" Jake asked, looking a little like a wolf staring at a lamb left alone.

Brady slid his eyes over to his new compatriot. He'd barely known this man for more than a couple of hours and he already knew he didn't care for him. But for his plan to work, he needed Jake Nunn, so he kept his opinion to himself.

"No." Brady answered. "We've got to get rid of that Marshal first. We don't want his interference."

"I still say we ought to just plug Dillon and get him out of the way entirely." Kid grumbled. He didn't care much for lawmen and he sure didn't like this one. The big man made him nervous.

Brady closed his eyes in exasperation. "And I've already told you no. We kill him and we get ourselves a poster and a hangman's noose instead of what we want."

"But ain't anyone gonna know we done it." Kid persisted.

"You think so, huh?" Brady glared. "Kid, if he shows up dead or even missing and then we make a play for Riley, it won't take no time before everyone connects the dots and figures it's us that got rid of that Marshal. We can't take the chance. Besides, we send him out of town for a while and we can do what we want and be free and clear once it's over. Riley will be dead, legally, so he won't be able to talk. And that Marshal can't do a thing to us."

"And the red head?" Jake asked with an arched brow. "What do we do with her to keep her from talking?"

Brady looked over at him with a grin. "What do you think?"

Jake was still smiling at the thought as they slipped backwards down the alley and headed for their horses. They had some work to do.

The next morning, a young cowboy came galloping into town, yelling loudly for Matt. "Marshal! Marshal Dillon!"

Matt had just left the Delmonico's from his breakfast when he heard his name being called and rushed down the street to find one of Jake Worth's men pounding on the jail house door. "Stephen? What's wrong? What's happened?"

Stephen took a breath in relief when he saw Matt. "Marshal, you need to get on out to the ranch. Someone broke in out there, beat old Toby and stole Mr. Worth's prize mare."

That news pulled Matt up short. Jake was one of the richest ranchers in Ford County and could well afford the loss of the mare, no matter how valued. But Toby Sessions had worked for Jake for many years and Jake thought of him as family. If the rancher was sending for Matt instead of handling the problem himself, something he usually did, than the situation must be dire.

"I'll get my horse and be right with you." Matt said as he hurried towards the jail. "Festus!" He yelled when he saw him heading in his direction. "Keep an eye on things here, will ya. I've got to ride out to Jake Worth's."

"Trouble is there?" Festus squinted up at him.

"I don't know." Matt answered as they went into the jail and he grabbed his rifle and saddle bag. "That's what I'm going to find out. But I don't want any trouble here while I'm gone so keep an eye on Riley and that dark haired man that set in on him last night."

He headed for the door and then stopped. "Oh, and I saw a couple of men hanging around the Long Branch and then the Lady Gay last night. Looked like gunmen. One had blonde hair and the other black. The black headed one acted and dressed like a dandy. If you see them anywhere near Duke Riley, let Riley know. He can handle himself. But keep Kitty out of the line fire if something happens."

"Will do er', Matthew." Festus answered.

Down the street, Brady and Kid sat outside of the Lady Gay and watched the Marshal and the cowboy go riding out of town. Kid looked over at Brady with a grin. "Ol' Jake done good." He laughed. "Reckon he's smart enough to keep Dillon on the hoof for a while?"

Brady shrugged. "Well, long enough for our purposes anyway. Come on. It's our turn."

Trying to appear casual, the two men got up and sauntered down the street to the Long Branch. Normally, what they were set on doing, would be done in the dark of night, where shadows would hide everything. But they didn't feel they would be afforded that option. They needed to move quickly if they were to get what they wanted.

Though Jake had so far followed through on his part and lured Dillon out of town, there was no guarantee he would continue to keep him out. Jake wasn't bright, but he was greedy and if he thought that Brady and Kid might keep him from his part of the money and the woman, he just might quit the chase and come back. They had to have things started before that happened.

As soon as they reached the Long Branch, they moved in quietly and went to the bar, ordering a beer and looking around. Duke Riley, who'd been pretty much holding down the back table, was missing.

But the red head was there, working behind the bar next to the tall, craggy faced bartender. Neither man said anything to her or seemed to pay her any special attention at all but they did offer each a slight nod when they heard her tell the bartender she'd be in her office for a while.

Having already scoped out the saloon and the three main entrances to it, they knew exactly what to do next. Placing their empty beer mugs on the bar, they left the saloon and swiftly made their way around to the back door. Cautiously looking around to make sure no one heard them, Brady picked the lock and he and Kid slipped unseen into the hall way in front of the saloon owner's office.

Kitty never knew they were there until she heard a soft knock on her door. "Yes?" She called. No one answered, but the knock came again. "Who is it?" She asked loudly. Still no one answered but the knock was heard once more. In irritation, Kitty got up and pulled the door open. "Wha…" The question died on her lips as she was greeted by a gun to her head and another man grabbed her from behind.

"What… what do you want?" She demanded, trying hard to swallow her fear.

"You." The dark haired man in front of her grinned.

Kitty shook her head. "No." She said and opened her mouth to scream but the man holding her, suddenly whirled her around and punched her, knocking her out.

"You didn't have to hit her." Brady pointed out.

"True." Kid agreed as he picked Kitty up and they headed for the door. "But this was easier than fighting her."

Brady didn't disagree with that as he followed his partner and the woman out, closing the back door behind them.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Duke Riley woke sore, stiff and moving slowly. He'd woken very early that morning in so much pain, he'd had little choice but to drink the awful concoction of opiates and liquor, called Laudanum, and go back to bed to try and sleep through it.

Doc Adams' had warned him that each day would be harder and the old man had proven he knew what he was talking about. But Duke refused to simply lie in his bed for the remainder of his days and give into his misery. He knew he'd have days like today, but he was bound and determined they would be few and far apart.

A stubborn man, Duke had learned long ago that giving up never accomplished anything. Sometimes continuing to strive didn't either but he could at least look at himself in the mirror knowing he'd given it all he had. He knew many people who'd given up because their way was hard and they'd perished just before something good could come to them.

That wasn't his style. He determined as a 16 year old boy that whenever and however death found him, it wouldn't find him silently lying around somewhere, waiting to die.

As he dressed, Duke thought about the boy he was when he'd set out to avenge his parents. Full of vim and vinegar and ready to take on the world. He'd been sure that once he killed the men who'd so completely destroyed his life, he'd be happy and ready to settle back on his father's farm and live.

But the killings only scarred him and though he did return home for a brief spell, he couldn't stay. The farm wasn't the same without his father's firm yet loving guidance and his mother comfort and caring ways. More importantly, he wasn't the same. In the space of the two years, it'd taken to find those men, he'd aged considerably and he knew he could never be what he'd started out to be.

When he finally admitted that fact to himself, he sold the farm, packed what few belongings he had and started on the path that led him to where and what he was now. An aging gunman, with none to mourn him, spending his few remaining days in a dusty cowtown with little in the way of pleasure save the time he spent in the saloon, flirting with a woman who'd never give him more than a smile and the occasional free drink.

Sadly, he remembered another red headed woman, girl really. All of 20 years with bright green eyes and an easy smile. She'd been the world to him and when she'd come to him, all breathless and flushed and smiling and told him they were to be parents, he thought a man couldn't be any happier. He'd willingly given up his gun, and took a job as a clerk in a general store, as a way to provide for her. But she died along with his unborn child and he retook his gun and never tried for that life again.

Looking back on it, he didn't regret quitting for his Gabriela and if she'd lived, he'd done all in his power for the rest of his days to make her happy. But she hadn't and though he'd charmed women and bedded women from one end of the country to the other, none of them came close to filling the hole she'd left in his life.

But then again….. Grinning, he thought of the blue eyed temptress that ran the saloon. He knew where her heart was. It was plain enough to see for anyone looking. But if he thought she'd give him a tumble, he'd go for it regardless of his situation. But no, she had eyes only for the big man with the tin badge and no other man would ever replace him with her.

"Festus!" He suddenly heard the scruffy deputy's name being screamed and it got his attention. Going to the window, he looked out to see the bartender, Sam, yelling loudly for the deputy as he quickly ran down to him. Duke was too far away to hear much else but he could tell by the agitated way in which the barkeep was gesturing that something was wrong.

Hurriedly, he finished dressing and headed for the door. But just as he grasped the knob, he happened to look down and see a white slip of paper lying on the floor as though someone had slipped it under the door. Quickly, Duke picked it up and opened it.

"We have the red head." It said ominously. "You want to see her alive, bring your money and your gun to Front Street in front of the saloon this evening at 7."

Duke's knees weakened suddenly, upon reading the note, and he sat down heavily on the bed. He knew what must've happened. Some gossip had seen him spending time with Kitty and misunderstood their interaction. How they knew he had money, he had no idea but it mattered very little in the face of it.

Looking at the clock he saw it was just past 4 in the afternoon which meant he had three hours to kill before he went down to meet whoever it was that had kidnapped Kitty. He knew he should probably tell the deputy about this and let him handle it but he couldn't do it.

Like some gamblers he'd known, Duke's life had mostly been about knowing the odds and playing them. He had a pretty good idea that should he go against the orders on the note, he'd get Kitty killed. He wasn't about to do that.

Getting back to his feet, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, counting the money left in there. He then pulled out the false bottom of his carpet bag and added that to the pile. He had a little less than $10,000. Maybe not much to account for all the years of being a paid gun hand but apparently enough to satisfy a kidnapper.

The note hadn't demanded a specific amount, so it was possible whoever wrote it, didn't know exactly how much money he did have. But then again, he had no idea who that person was so they could've found out in any number of ways.

For several long moments, Duke stood considering his options and realized he had very few. Kitty wasn't his, as the kidnapper thought, but she was still special to him and he wasn't about to stand back and let her get hurt if he could stop it.

Finally, he stepped over to the table by the bed and grabbed some paper and a pencil. Hastily, he scribbled a note and then placed it and some of the money in it, finally sealing the envelope and placing it in his vest pocket. The rest of the money, he stuffed in his wallet and stuffed it into the inside pocket of his jacket. Finally, he grabbed his hat and headed for the door. He had some things he needed to do before the showdown at 7.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Matt stood in the middle of the empty prairie studying the confusing tracks in front of him. They didn't make sense. Whoever it was, that beat up Tobie and stole the mare, wasn't acting like any bandit he ever saw. The man wasn't heading straight south, as most would and he wasn't headed straight anyplace else.

Taking his hat off, Matt wiped his sweaty brow and massaged the stiff muscles in the back of his neck. He had a feeling he was being played. Whoever, he was following, was purposely leading him in circles around here which made Matt wonder why. The only reason he could think of was because they wanted to get him out of town and away from…

Quickly, he put his hat back on and mounted. He wasn't too many miles out of Dodge and unless he was wrong, he needed to get back there and pronto.

Back in town, Duke stood at the base of Doc's stairs and pulled his watch, squinting at the small round face to read the numbers. 6:15. He'd made good time, by his reckoning, considering the things he'd had to do by 7. Freshly bathed and shaved with a neat haircut, he looked more like he was going to church rather than going to his death but he had no intention of going to meet St. Peter, or more likely the other feller down below, looking anything less than his best.

Taking one last look around him, he started climbing the stairs to the physician's office. He saw the deputy racing out of town on his mule, headed to find the marshal most likely. He'd been near the doors of the Long Branch when he heard the deputy asking for volunteers to search the town for Miss Kitty.

Festus, as well as quite a few other people, had searched the town high and low but could find no sign of her. If Duke was right, he didn't figure they would either. At least not until it was all over and maybe not in the best of shape. His heart ached at that. He'd really come to like that lady.

Shaking off the thought of what could be happening to her, he continued his climb and when bidden to do so, opened the door and went in to talk to Doctor Galen Adams.

Two miles out of town, Kitty woke, bleary eyed, head and jaw aching and more confused than worried. She had no idea where she was or why she was there. The only thing she remembered was two men at her door with a gun and then one of them hitting her. She didn't know exactly who the men were, although she remembered seeing them in the Long Branch.

Pushing herself to her feet, she looked around. She was in a small room with a cot in the corner and a small square table next to that. There was a scratched wooden chest of drawers across the room. The table had a lamp, pitcher of water and a glass sitting on it. Upon inspection, she found the chest was empty.

At the head of the cot, there was a small window that had been boarded over but there was enough of a gap between the boards for her to look out and see an empty yard and a big barn in the distance. She recognized the barn. She was at the old Lane farm.

It had been abandoned some three years back when the owner, Jimmy Lane and his family left, unable to make the dry, rocky ground yield a living. Kitty had visited the farm just once, about five years prior when she'd come out with Doc to help Mrs. Lane with the birth of her third child, a boy.

Sighing, she rubbed her sore jaw and sat back down on the cot. She now knew where she was, but she still had no idea why. There was a strong possibility that she'd been taken to be used in some way to get back at Matt for some supposed crime against one outlaw or another. But who?

Getting back to her feet, Kitty went all the way around the room ending back up at the window. She'd found no possibility of escape. The walls and door were solid. She pushed hard at the boards across the window but they wouldn't budge. Finally, giving in to her aching head, she moved back to the cot and unhappily laid down to wait for what happened next.

Not too far from the farm, Festus pushed Ruth to run as fast as he could. "Come on, Ruth." He urged. "We gotta find him." But though the mule willingly complied, Festus could feel his saddle shift under him and worried that it might fall off. It didn't matter if it did though. He had to find Matthew and head him on back to town.

When Sam had informed him that Miss Kitty was missing, he and every man available had scoured the town looking for her. But she'd completely disappeared in the middle of the day without leaving word as to why. Festus was pretty sure she'd been taken but by who or why he didn't know and it didn't matter at the moment. Matthew would figure that out. He just had to find him.

No sooner did that thought cross his mind than he saw the man he sought, riding hard across the hard packed ground heading towards town. "Matthew! Matthew!" He yelled, pulling Ruth to a halt. "Over here!"

But Matt didn't hear him. Instead he raced inexorably towards Dodge like the hounds of hell were at his feet. Festus made no further efforts to get his attention. Matthew was headed where he needed to go, besides, he'd pushed Ol' Ruth as far as he could for a spell.

Dismounting, Festus gently patted the old mule on the head. "Well, he'll find out when he gits to town, Ruth. The ol' Lane farm's not far from here. Ain't nobody a living there, but reckon the well might still be good. What's say we go git some water and I fix this here saddle fer ya?"

Grabbing the reins, Festus headed in that direction while Matt raced frantically for Dodge.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Just wanted to thank you all again for such kind remarks. I do appreciate them. And I have shared them with Jimmy. He says thank you all as well.**

Jake leaned back in his saddle and looked around him. In his own opinion, he'd done a pretty good job of leading that Marshal on a wild goose chase and as far from Dodge as possible. The plan, Brady had devised, detailed that he lead Dillon some distance out of town and then double back to join them in the shootout _with_ and money _from_ Duke Riley.

Well, he'd led Dillon away and he doubted the big man would ever find his way back to town. But he was confident that if he did, he, Jake Nunn, the man that shot Duke Riley, would be able to handle him. Looking up and to his west, he saw the sun taking a decided downward dip and knew time for the showdown was fast approaching. He figured he'd better head back to town. Then after everything was said and done, he'd head out to that seedy little farm outside of town and claim his other prize.

Meanwhile, back at that seedy little farm, Kitty leaned back against the cot in her small prison room and waited. There wasn't much more she could do. She tried with all her strength to get the door opened or knock out at least one of the boards covering the window but to no avail. She was stuck there with nothing but a pitcher of water and a sagging cot to sit on.

Suddenly, she heard something outside. Swallowing hard, she was afraid it was one of the men who'd taken her but when she pushed herself to her feet and looked out through the board covered window, she was thrilled to see it was Festus, pulling up a bucket of water for Ruth from the old well up front. "Festus! Festus!" She called excitedly.

"Miss Kitty?" Festus dropped Ruth's reins and hurried into the house, going to the door, Kitty was currently pounding on. "Hang on, Miss Kitty." He told her. "I'll have this door open afore you can say…"

"I know, Festus." Kitty shook her head in relief. "Just hurry."

Festus pulled at the lock on the door but knew right away there'd be no way to pry it off. "Miss Kitty, you step back from that door, ya hear me? I'm gonna shoot this here lock off and I don't want ya gettin' yerself hurt."

"Alright." She called back and moved back towards the window. "I'm away from it now, Festus." She called again.

Without another word, Festus pulled his gun and shot the lock off of the hasp then quickly grasped the knob and opened the door. Instantly, Kitty quit the window and went to him, gratefully hugging him.

"Ya awright, Miss Kitty?" He asked, noting the bruise on her chin with a squinted eye.

"I'm fine, Festus." She nodded. "I'm just so glad to see you."

"What happened? How'd ya git out here?" He questioned.

"I don't know." She answered. "And right now, it's not important. But I have a feeling we need to get back to town."

But Festus shook his head. "My saddle cinch is near tore in two, Miss Kitty. I come here to see if'n I could find something to fix it with."

"We'll ride bareback then." Kitty answered as she took his hand and turned for the door. "We've got to get back to town, now."

As Matt was nearing Dodge and Kitty and Festus were racing across open land to get there, Duke Riley was boldly walking down Front Street. He'd finished what business he'd needed done and had secured Doc's promise of help on a couple of other matters. The only things he had left to do was face down at least one gunman and die. Hopefully in that order.

The evening was quiet as he strode purposefully down the middle of the street. The clear skies of the day were giving way to low clouds and gusting wind. The air had heavy moistness in it. It would probably be raining before morning.

That late in the evening, saloons were about the only places left open. Most people, sensing the change in weather, had gone home but there were still quite a few people left in town who noticed the tall, aging gunman as he, with head held high and shoulders squared marched down the street, the right side of his dark tailored jacket carefully tucked in behind his gun and his hat solidly and straight atop his head.

Though his meeting with the unknown note writer and kidnapper hadn't been advertised, it didn't take long for people to notice him and the murderous look in his eyes. Before long word spread and people began spilling out of the saloons and even the hotel to follow along and watch.

Duke was aware of them but he paid them scant attention. It was nearing 7 o'clock and he had an appointment to keep.

Down the street, Brady Coleman, Kid Colt and the just arrived Jake Nunn stood side by side, watching the gunman's progress towards them. Brady didn't really want either of the two men to be there but aside from outright killing them, he knew he'd not shake their company.

Still, he wasn't worried. Aside from the plan he'd discussed with his two co-horts, he had another one all set and ready. If things went to his liking, he'd have the fame of being the man that killed Duke Riley and the company of the red head out at the farm, all to himself.

"He's drawing a crowd." Jake said as he stood to Brady's left, hand on his hip, waiting. "I don't like that."

"We need a crowd to make this look legit." Brady replied calmly.

"But what about the money?" Kid seethed to his right. "We go asking for it, that won't look legit at all."

"We're not going to ask for it." Brady answered just as steadily as before. "We're going to kill him and then take it off his body when we check him to make sure he's dead. Trust me. This will work."

Kid and Jake exchanged silent glances but didn't reply. They didn't trust Brady but right then was not the time to work that out. Right then was the time to stand tall and face the gun man that was marching their way.

Duke saw the three men standing in the street, guns readily available and facing him. He now knew how many men he was facing and from the looks of the ones on either end, thought the odds good that he'd take at least two of them before he died himself. The one in the middle was a wild card, but he'd won larger gambles than that.

Duke walked to within fifty paces and stopped in the middle of the street facing his adversaries. "I'm here." He called. "Let's get this show on the road."

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Never abusive to his steed, Matt nevertheless pressed Buck into as fast a run as the horse would go, even occasionally laying the reins hard against his shoulder. Each yard closer to Dodge made him just that much more anxious to get there. He didn't know why, but he had a feeling something was about to take place and he needed to be there and stop it if he could.

As he rode, he tried hard not to think about what could be happening back in Dodge. Many possibilities came to mind and none of them good. The only thing he knew was that a gunman was in town with many men wanting to kill him for the priviledge of saying they did and Kitty was too close to that situation for his comfort. He pressed Buck even harder.

Back in Dodge, Duke stood tall and looking proud as he faced off with the three men in front of him. He wasn't afraid. He was dying anyway and this was his preferred method of going. But he was worried about Kitty and he was determined to secure her release and safety before he went. If he had to shake the information out of their corpses.

"I'm here." He'd called when he finally halted his steps. "Let's get this show on the road."

"You're in an awful hurry to die, Old man." Brady grinned insolently. "You know that's what's going to happen, don't you?"

"I know you talk too much, Sonny." Duke replied. "And I know you have something, some one that I want. So let's get this over with. You tell me where she's at, I give you the money you asked for and we part ways." He knew it wasn't going to be that easy, he knew these men would, by no means, play this fairly. But he had to at least try.

Brady held his temper in check at Riley dismissing him as Sonny. He'd make the man pay for that but not just yet. He had to show those watching, just how big a man and how much better a gun man he was. Besides, he had to deflect Riley's mention of the woman and the money. Those watching and listening didn't need to know about that.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Riley. I didn't come here about no woman or any money. I'm here for you."

Kid and Jake turned and stared hard at their compatriot. Neither one of them knew that he planned on denying kidnapping the saloon owner and requesting money for her. But the thing they found objectionable was his use of the word, "I" instead of, "we".

"Now wait a minute." Kid started. "This ain't all your show. We all got us a piece in this."

"Yeah." Jake nodded in agreement. "We're all together in this. We're sharing more'n the money and woman in this. We git part of the glory too!"

Duke smiled when Jake spoke. The men weren't together, despite their appearance side by side on Front Street. That just gave him an edge. "I doubt it boys." He called out. "Seems like your compadre there wants to keep you both out of all of it. Betcha anything, when I'm dead, he figures a way to go get that woman and ride off with her and the money."

"Shut up!" Brady demanded with a glare before glancing at the men either side of him. "I'm not either. Honest, as soon as this is over with, we all ride out of here together."

"I wouldn't listen to him fellas." Duke's smile widened as he lowered his hand to his gun. "I don't think he's playing you for fair."

"I said shut up!" Brady yelled as he drew his gun and fired, hitting Duke in the shoulder and knocking him backwards.

But Duke had, a split second before, already drawn his gun and he fired hitting Brady square in the middle of the forehead, putting his lights out forever.

Jake and Kid immediately dove for cover and pulled their guns. They might not get the promised money or the woman. But they were going to get Duke Riley.

Down the street, Matt urged his flagging horse onward to where he heard he gunshots. He had no way of knowing what was going on but he had a feeling he wasn't going to like it.

"Hold it!" He yelled as he reined Buck in hard and quickly dismounted, his gun drawn and at the ready.

But Kid and Jake were too startled at the sight of his arrival to comply. Instead, Jake raised his pistol, took aim at the badge and fired. He didn't see that Duke had already gotten halfway up and was just waiting for the opportunity he presented when he moved out of cover to shoot Dillon.

Duke plugged him where he stood and Jake's shot went wild, just grazing Matt's left arm.

Kid wasn't as easily distracted as Jake and when Duke fired at Jake, Kid fired at him, hitting him a second time, this time in the chest. Duke fell back, unable to even try for another shot. Matt wasn't hampered though. One shot and Kid was blown back against the store front, he was standing next to.

As he fell, he looked up just in time to see the scruffy deputy and the red head riding in on the mule and headed in their direction. "Fi… figures." He grimaced. "Couldn't… even do… that right."

Matt wasted no more time on the three men as he hurried over to Duke and knelt down beside him. "Hang on." He said. "We'll get you up to Doc."

But Duke shook his head. "No… Kitty… they took…" He stopped when he looked past Matt's shoulder to see Festus helping Kitty off the back of the mule and her heading his direction.

Matt followed the line of his gaze and his heart flooded with relief to see her. "Kitty? You alright?" He quieried anxiously noting the bruised chin and torn clothes.

Kitty nodded as she knelt down beside him and Duke, laying a hand on the dying man's chest. She couldn't stop the tears that formed at the sight of him. "Duke…"

"No... use crying." He smiled up at her. "Was going... anyway." He looked up at Matt. "Take care of her... Dillon. You got something here worth more than gold. Hold onto... her." he sighed as his heart finally gave way and stopped.

Kitty couldn't control the sob that escaped and gently, Matt reached over, helping her up and heedless of the many people watching, pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. He offered no words of consolation, knowing none would be adequate. What Kitty needed from him right then went beyond words.

"Festus." Matt called over his shoulder. "Take care of this, will ya?"

"Shore will, Matthew." Festus answered as Matt led Kitty away and back towards the Long Branch.

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

EPILOGUE

One day later

Kitty, Matt and Doc sat at a back in the Long Branch, drinks sitting untouched in front of them. Duke Riley had been buried that morning with most of the town attending. There were also newspaper reporters and others who simply came so that they could say they were there. To Matt it was almost a carnival like atmosphere. To Kitty it was a travesty.

Matt was pretty sure in that in reality there were only a few people there that really cared about the gunman and they, though accepting of his fate, mourned it nonetheless.

Kitty in particular took his passing hard. She'd grown to care a great deal for the older gentleman, who'd spent so much of last days with her. In many ways he reminded her of an older Matt and it endeared him to her even more. When she discovered that Duke had left something for her with Doc, she broke down into tears anew before she even knew what it was.

That gift, now sat incongruously and conspicuously on the table in front of them and often she found her hand reaching out to simply touch it.

"It's a nice bible." Matt said quietly, when once again, she'd reached out and lightly traced the letters on the cover.

"It's more than that." She answered softly. "It was his family bible. He listed me on the inside as his next of kin." She closed her eyes, willing new tears away.

"You were." Doc spoke up. "Closest thing he had anyway. He cared about you, Kitty."

Kitty nodded. "I cared about him." Suddenly a thought occurred to her and she raised her eyes to Matt. "I… he…"

"I know, Kitty." He nodded sincerely. He did know. Kitty's heart belonged to him whether it was spoken of or not and had Duke Riley been a younger man, full of life with years to live, she'd still not have gone for him. He knew, with no small amount of awe and gratitude that she loved him alone and completely.

And he also knew, he loved her the same. No, Kitty's heart would never go anywhere without his and visa versa. That was just the way it was.

Doc saw the looks exchanged between the two and understood a complete conversation had just been had without a word spoken. He chose to ignore that conversation and change the subject.

"Well, it was sure nice of him to leave Andrea Hudson that money to take care of herself and Noah and to leave that horse to Noah. The boy idolized that man and he loves that horse."

"Yeah," Matt agreed. "It was. And Andrea really needed the money. That money will help her get a better place here in town. The old shack, she and the boy were living in, was about to fall down."

"I thought you worked on that place." Doc looked over at him.

"Well, I did." Matt shrugged. "But I didn't have the money to tear it down and build her another and that's about the only thing that could've really helped it. And she wouldn't have taken the money if I had of had it. As it was, she had no idea that Kitty gave me money for the supplies I did buy or she would've turned them down. I told her it was leftovers from a barn raising."

"She didn't need to know any different." Kitty looked over at him. "I think that's why Duke left money for her with Doc, knowing she wouldn't take it any other way."

"You're probably right, Kitty." Matt agreed. "Still, it was nice. And that…"

"Yeah, it was." She agreed without his finishing the thought. "It was nice of him to leave that money to the school as well."

"Yeah, the money he left with me to pay for medical expenses for anyone who couldn't pay." Doc added.

Matt shook his head as a thought came to him. I still can't believe he went to meet those men without a dime on him and when he saw how many men there were, he stayed put."

"I can believe it." Kitty sighed. "He was a valiant man." Suddenly, looking up at Matt she smiled. "Reminds me of another man I know. Tall, handsome, honest and brave."

Matt looked down, uncomfortable with the praise. Although she often praised him when they were alone, that was something different.

"Wellllll…" Doc stretched and got wearily to his feet. "I've had a long day and I'm tired. I think I'll go home now."

"Good night, Doc." Kitty smiled up at him.

"Doc, wait a minute and I'll walk out with you. It's time I made my evening rounds." He looked back down at Kitty. "Kitty, I'll stop back by later."

"You'd better." She answered.

"Oh, I will." He threw her a wink as he turned and left.

Later that evening, an exhausted yet restless physician heard something outside and quietly stepped to his window and looked to the street below. He saw one very tall man slipping around to the back of the Long Branch and then a few minutes later heard heavy footsteps climbing the back stairs of that establishment.

Grinning, he took a scrub of his mustache and finally headed to bed. Kitty had grown awfully fond of the gunman who'd come into town only a week prior and like anyone she cared about, she took his loss hard. She was going to need some comforting for a while. But Doc was absolutely certain that she would get that comforting this night and unless a certain piece of tin changed things, she'd have it for many nights to come.

The End

**AN: One last time, thank you all for the reviews and interest in this story. It is much appreciated. And SusyQ, I liked Duke as well. He was a valiant man who died a valiant death but in the end, knew someone cared.**


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